I read the lines and for some reason felt smitten. Deep inside, the question arose. If the writer knew everything, would they write what they did?
This was the setting. The note had been sent a little while ago. In it was a tendering of thanks for services offered in the line of work that I’m currently engaged in. The note was brief but among the latter lines was expressed the firm belief that I would be blessed by helping those that God brings into my life. Reading that, my heart thudded a touch heavier and instantly my mind flitted away to…scenes….peoples…thoughts.
Perfection is not one of my attributes. Never has been, never will be, irregardless of what I may think at times. And it’s people who bring out the worst in me. They may not draw it out of me into visible action but inside, I know. And I wonder, if people knew how often I must deal with my unconquered self nature and how it threatens to burst out at times, if I’d enjoy the measure of respect I enjoy of those around me?
On top of this are questions of effectiveness…of how I’ll be viewed after my departure…of my term and how my standing was and will be with those whom I worked among. Maybe these are illegitimate questions. The pat answer is to step out in faith and live, leaving the results to God. And I want to…but the questions still lurk.